Freedom and Kindness

Oh, that sweet feeling of freedom when she ducked out of her responsibilities; when she sabotaged herself so she didn’t have to bear the weight of others’ pain; when she wasn’t ready to hold someone’s hand whilst they cried, so instead she turned away, and pretended she didn’t see them.

And that freedom, that sense of relief, was so quickly refilled with guilt, and shame and failure: remorse at how she could be so callous with her own fellow human.

Because was this not what she so craved for herself? For someone to care about her so deeply that they would sit with her pain, and reach out to support her even when they felt they had nothing left to give?

Was this not how she wanted the world to be: for someone to care, for everyone to care, just a little bit more, about kindness, and compassion, instead of worrying about whether or not they were doing it right, how it would look to others, or whether they were good enough to help?

When did HOW you showed you cared, become more important than TRYING to show you cared?
When did ego and appearances and ‘leadership’ overtake vulnerability, love and kindness?

And with these questions in mind, she gathered herself together, put her ego to one side, and held out her hand of friendship, not knowing what was needed, or if she could provide it, but knowing that she was willing to try, and willing to look like a fool, because no-one was ever hurt by kindness. … 📸: Billy Pasco